


Tony-Winning Dinner

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: Story of Three Boys [137]
Category: Glee
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Mother-Daughter Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:29:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just before leaving for college in 2037, Eliza knows she can, without repercussion, come out to her mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tony-Winning Dinner

When her mother insists on taking her out for dinner “before you leave the city,” Eliza is torn. She doesn’t really want to have dinner with Rachel, especially not just the two of them, but she suspects that one final time of playing along will pay off dividends, especially for Charlie. Eliza agrees, and then has another moment of indecision two nights before the scheduled dinner, when Rachel sends her a message suggesting that she bring “someone special” with her. 

Eliza knows she could tell Rachel that there’s no one special, or she could suggest that it stay the two of them, but it’s an opportunity being handed to her on a silver platter, practically, so Eliza calls her girlfriend instead. 

“Hey,” Tibs says. 

“Remember I told you that my mom wants to have dinner before I leave the city?” Eliza says. 

“Right, and you didn’t really want to go, but were doing it anyway.”

“Now she wants to know if I want to bring someone _special_ ,” Eliza says, smirking a little at the phone. 

“Oh, wow, _that’s_ going to go over well!” Tibs says. “Do you want me to come?”

Eliza laughs. “Won’t it? Are you free?” 

“I can be! How do you want me to dress?”

“You know how I like you!” Eliza says. 

“Right, but you can like me in those five-inch heels or you can like me in my boots,” Tibs says. 

“It’s still a source of great sadness to me that you don’t have boots with five-inch heels,” Eliza says, lamenting it a little. “We should probably try to out-respectability her.” 

“I can wear my new white linen jacquard suit. The one your daddy helped me pick out for interviews.”

“We’ll look lovely,” Eliza says smugly. “My mom won’t know what to think.” 

 

Eliza sends Rachel a message letting her know that will be a party of three, not two, and carefully dresses for the evening, planning to meet Tibs a couple of blocks down from the very trendy restaurant that Rachel insisted they meet at. Eliza’s sure that Rachel used Jesse’s name to get the reservation, but at least Eliza’ll be able to tell everyone else if it lives up to the buzz. 

“Ready?” Eliza asks Tibs with a smile. 

“I didn’t overdo it with the necklace?” Tibs asks, indicating the heavy Russian bead necklace she’s wearing, in contrasting shades to the blue silk shell top she paired with her suit.

“I’m sure Mom knows it’s very in,” Eliza says. “It’s appropriate to the venue.” 

“If she asks me where I got it, can I tell her your dads gave it to me as a graduation present?”

“It’s even almost true,” Eliza says as she nods, then offers Tibs her arm. 

“The one they gave me was bigger,” Tibs says. She takes Eliza’s arm. “Ready?”

“Ready. And my dads are a bit obsessed with size,” Eliza says. The host says that Rachel’s already seated, and Eliza does her best to hide the smirk threatening to break out. 

“Hi, Mom,” Eliza says from behind Rachel as they approach the small table. 

“Oh, Eliza,” Rachel says, turning to look at her. When her eyes pass over Tibs, she frowns slightly. “I thought you were bringing someone special, not a friend.”

“I am. I did? Whichever,” Eliza says. “Mom, this is Tibet Fierstein. Tibs, this is my mom, Rachel Berry.” 

“Nice to meet you Ms Berry,” Tibs says, offering Rachel her hand, which Rachel completely ignore. 

“I meant a _romantic_ special someone, not just a close friend,” Rachel says. “Of course, I’m glad you’ve made close friends in that… _school_ of yours, but I thought you understood my intent when we spoke about this.”

“Oh, I understood perfectly, Mom. This is my _girlfriend_ Tibs.” 

Rachel’s brow furrows—without very much movement, Eliza notices, remembering what her papa had said about the botox—as she looks at Tibs and Eliza’s linked arms. “You can’t be serious,” Rachel says, her voice flat. 

“Why can't I be?” Eliza says in her best faux-innocent voice.

“You’re just doing this to get a reaction out of me,” Rachel says. “ _They_ probably prompted this. Whose idea was it? Your father’s? Or was it Kurt?’”

“Daddy doesn't even know I invited Tibs,” Eliza says. “You're the one who wanted to meet the person I'm dating, Mom.”

“This is preposterous, Eliza Bette. It’s simply preposterous,” Rachel blusters, her face turning red. 

“I thought your mother’s two dads were gay,” Tibs says to Eliza in a stage whisper. 

Eliza nods. “I’m sure they’d love to see a picture of us all together, Mom!” 

“Is this your way of trying to convince me that _you_ are gay?” Rachel says. “I don’t see how that’s possible. You’ve always been interested in boys.”

“I’ve never been interested in boys, Mom. You always _asked_ me about boys,” Eliza says. 

“And you never said a thing about girls!” Rachel counters.

“Because I knew you’d react like this.” 

“You cannot _possibly_ be suggesting that I’m homophobic!” Rachel says. 

“I think you don’t want _me_ to be a lesbian,” Eliza says. “I doubt you’d care if it were anyone else.” Eliza pauses. “Almost anyone else.” 

“Why, Eliza! I can’t believe you would think that about me,” Rachel says. Now she’s batting her eyelashes and trying to look wounded. “You’re my daughter. Of course I love and accept you as who you are!”

Tibs puts her mouth close to Eliza’s ear. “And here I thought she couldn’t get acting work in this town anymore,” she whispers. 

“Excuse me? What did you say?” Rachel asks Tibs. 

“I was just saying you seemed upset, and maybe we should go,” Tibs says innocently. “I didn’t mean to upset you, of course.”

“You don’t, really,” Eliza says to Rachel. “I know that. But I still thought you should know who I am.” 

“Why would you think that? This is some crazy idea your father put in your head, I know it is,” Rachel says. 

“Dad?” Eliza snorts. “Dad goes out of his way _not_ to criticize you at all, even when he probably should.” 

“He has _always_ been critical of my parenting. He’s always acted like he’s a better parent than I am, just because he was able to earn some psycho-babble degree,” Rachel says. 

“No he hasn’t!” Eliza says. “Even though he _is_ a better parent than you.” 

“Oh, really,” Rachel says, now sounding sharp and sarcastic. “That’s why Charlotte is so incredibly well-adjusted, I suppose. Your father’s excellent parenting.”

“The only thing you don’t like about Charlie is that she doesn’t like _you_ ,” Eliza says. “Why won’t any of them talk about when Charlie was really little, Mom?” 

“You mean when your father took the two of you and left me in the night with absolutely no warning?” Rachel asks. 

Eliza rolls her eyes. “No, _before_ that. Why does it make them sad? I’m not stupid, Mom.” 

“Of course you aren’t. You’ve always taken after the Berry side of the family.”

“I’m sorry,” Eliza says to Tibs. “This was clearly a mistake. We’ll go eat somewhere else.” 

“Don’t apologize. It’s about what I expected,” Tibs says. 

“Eliza, be sensible,” Rachel says. “You’re being very dramatic right now.”

Eliza shakes her head. “I don’t think you know what that means, really. I just don’t want to listen to you insult my family.” 

“Eliza, _I_ am your family,” Rachel insists, starting to cry, big tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“Wow,” Tibs whispers. “How did she not win that Tony?”

Eliza covers her mouth so she won’t laugh, swallowing a few times. “Yes, you’re my mom, but you’re talking badly about one of my dads and one of my sisters, and I don’t want to listen to any more of it.” 

“Fine. I’ll just continue to hold my tongue, the way I’ve had to for most of your life,” Rachel says tearfully, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. “Sit down and eat, please.”

“What do you want to do, Tibs?” Eliza asks quietly. 

“It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, but if you want to stay, I think this is all fascinating,” Tibs says. 

“You can’t mention any of them if we stay, Mom,” Eliza says firmly. “And my sexual orientation is also not up for discussion.” 

“Fine,” Rachel repeats. She abruptly stops crying and folds up the tissue, stuffing it in the pocket of her purse. She smiles, brightly and falsely. “Will the two of you please sit so we can order?”

“Sure, Mom,” Eliza says, just as falsely bright as Rachel’s smile. She pulls out one chair for Tibs before sitting down herself. “So, how are auditions going for you lately?” 

Rachel’s fake smile flickers briefly. “I’m waiting on callbacks for a few roles.”

Eliza’s smile is real, and she knows Rachel can probably tell. “I’m sure the perfect opportunity will come along soon.”


End file.
